


Into Darkness

by RhiannonMcBride



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blindness, Eye Trauma, Gen, internalized ableism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 04:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18438941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhiannonMcBride/pseuds/RhiannonMcBride
Summary: After a battle, Loki is left blind. Thor helps him deal...





	Into Darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IreneADonovan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneADonovan/gifts).



“Help me, brother.” Loki's voice was hoarse, weak.

It had been a vicious battle, Asgardians versus a massed army of three realms. They had driven their foes back, but it had been a costly victory. More so than he had even realized, Thor now knew.

Loki's was badly wounded, his face a mask of blood, more welling from a wound on his breast. Yet he had stirred, recognized Thor's touch. Perhaps all was not yet lost.

“Stay with me, brother,” he pled. “I will get you to a healer.”

“Leave me,” Loki commanded, voice low and harsh. “I would not live like this.”

“Like what? Stop speaking in riddles.”

“Some wounds are beyond a healer's powers. My eyes--” Loki's voice had been steady; now it broke. “My eyes are gone.”

“You are certain?”

“Unfortunately,” Loki said quietly. “My foes described exactly what they were doing as they did it.”

Thor scooped Loki up.

“No!”

“I am sorry, brother. I cannot leave you to die.”

Thor took his brother straight to a healer. He wasn't as badly wounded as Thor had feared, but his eyes were indeed damaged beyond repair.

Loki lay in his bed, deathly still, covers drawn up to his chest. His dark curls were snarled, his skin pallid, and a stark white blindfold covered his ruined eyes.

“You should have left me,” he said icily.

“You know I could never.” Thor took his brother's hand. Loki tried to pull away, but Thor held him fast. “This is not the end of your world, brother.”

“It should have been.”

**~***~**

Blind. The word tasted like ash on his lips. Blind. Helpless. Useless. His fingers brushed over the bandage that covered the ruin of his eyes; he resisted the urge to claw at it. That would change nothing, satisfying as it might feel.

What would he do now? And damn Thor for saving him. Saving him to a half-life.

After a time, a servant, a woman with a sweet voice, brought a tray He smelled ale and something savory, redolent of herbs. His fingers skimmed the tray, found a bowl of stew and a dish of sliced fruit. As his hand withdrew, he jostled the mug of ale, and it sloshed onto the bed.

He snatched up the tray and pitched it away. He heard the smash of crockery, and for a moment, felt better. Then the moment passed, and he began to weep, deep and angry and ugly. And tearless. The damage done to his eyes had taken his tears.

After a while, he sensed he was no longer alone. “Who's there?”

“It is I, brother.”

“Go away. This is your fault.”

“Hardly.” Thor's voice held but a trace of his usual good humor. “That falls to the ones that blinded you.”

“I told you not to save me.”

“And you expected me to listen to you?”

The barest ghost of a smile found its way to Loki's lips. “You? Listen? Never.”

“Shall I get you more food?”

Loki shook his head. “Don't bother.”

“You need to eat.”

“Not now.” Now was the time to mourn.

“Not now,” Thor conceded quietly. Soft footsteps, then his brother sat on the bed beside him, pulled him into his arms, said nothing more, just held him. Just held him.

Loki let himself dissolve into grief.

**~***~**

“I can't do this.” Loki gripped the bedpost tightly, his fine features taut with fear.

“You can, my brother.” Thor spoke quietly, firmly. “Now step toward me.”

Loki unwound his fingers from the bedpost, took a cautious step forward. His hands extended, sweeping the air before him.

There is nothing between us,” Thor assured him.

A few more cautious steps, then Loki's hand brushed Thor's upper arm.

Thor caught his hand, folded it around his elbow. “Come. Let's walk.”

He led Loki out into the corridor, walking slowly, not rushing his brother, but also not coddling him.

“I don't like this,” Loki protested. “I feel like everyone must be staring at me.”

“The corridor is empty.”

“Not what I meant.” Loki halted, frowning. “More that everyone here knew me before. They'll always see me as I was before, compare that to how I am now, feel sorry for me.”

Thor knew this was true. He'd been shielding Loki from as many of the pitying comments as he could, but clearly Loki had been aware. “Is there anything I can do, brother?”

Loki considered, speaking only after a long while. “If I must learn to live like this, and it seems I have little choice in the matter, I would do it somewhere other than here, a place where no one knows me, where no one will know how far I have fallen. Until, if, I can master this.”

“I will make the arrangements,” Thor said. “And you _can_ master this.”

Loki wasn't nearly so sanguine as his brother.

**~***~**

“Where are we?” A mélange of unfamiliar scents, both pleasant and un, tickled Loki's nose, and the air hung heavy and warm and damp.

“Midgard. New York.”

“Hardly the safest place for me.”

“All is taken care of. You will be unmolested. I have even arranged for someone to teach you.”

“Lovely,” Loki said dryly.

“He will arrive soon. Let me show you around the house while we wait.”

A while later, Loki had a hazy -- very hazy -- idea of the house's layout. He also had a roaring headache.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Loki heard Thor's heavy footfalls as he went to answer it, felt a slight breeze through the door. “Matt,” he said heartily. “Come in.”

A series of lighter footsteps, counterpointed by a rhythmic swishing Loki couldn't identify. “Matt, I'd like you to meet my brother, Loki.” Thor took Loki's hand, brought it together with the newcomer's. “Loki, this is Matt Murdock.”

“A pleasure,” Loki said dryly.

Matt actually chuckled. “I'm sure it isn't.”

“And how would you know?” Even sharper than he'd intended.

‘I've been there,” Matt said quietly. His voice was a soft baritone with a touch of whiskey. “I lost my sight when I was ten.”

“Does it ever get any easier?” Loki didn't even dare to hope.

“It does.” Matt squeezed Loki's hand. “I won't lie to you and say it will be easy. Easier, yes, but never easy. But doable. And worth it.”

**~***~**

Murdock hadn't lied. It wasn't easy, but it was possible, though Loki still wasn't entirely sure about the worth it part. Still, he learned. Learned to walk across a room without worrying he'd crash into something or fall on his face. How to walk down a street without getting lost. How to endure all the little condescensions, both intentional and unintentional, he encountered on a daily basis.

Within days, he was less despairing. In weeks, beginning to believe he could learn to function without his sight. And after several months, he _was_ functioning without his sight. Not perfectly, by no means perfectly, but well enough to consider the once-impossible.

He sipped at a near-perfect vodka martini, announced, “I believe it is time to go home.”

He heard Thor's sharp intake of breath. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” No. Not entirely. “Midgard has been diverting, but it has served its purpose. I am ready, and I would go home.

They did go home, the next day. And it, well, it wasn't bad, not mostly.

He knew he cut a much different figure than the wounded, grieving shell he had been, clinging tight to his brother's arm. While his hand still rested on Thor's arm, he gripped only lightly, taking guidance but not reliance.

He knew he looked good, in soft black leather, well-cut. Matt had taught him some methods for keeping track of things like clothing colors. The cloth that covered his ruined eyes was of fine silk, emerald green, deliberately calling to mind the color his eyes had been. He wouldn't hide what had happened.

Thor led him toward his chambers, and he strove to map the route in his head. He'd need repetition to memorize it fully. Still, he noted some landmarks that would be useful, the places where the floors changed from wood to carpet and back again, where the scents from the kitchen wafted down the corridor, the sounds of children playing in the courtyard, the warmth of sun through windows.

He stiffened, though, when he heard light footsteps coming toward them. Was he really ready for this? Yes.

“Sif!” Thor called, greeting his old friend warmly. He paused as Sif's footsteps closed the distance.

“Thor!” Loki felt her hug his brother, then to his surprise, she hugged him as well. “And Loki. Welcome back.”

He hugged her back, a little awkward.

“You're recovering well?” she asked. “You look good.”

“I'm doing better,” he acknowledged. “Much better.”


End file.
